Fall From Grace
by Saberi
Summary: Response to Summer Challenge 2 on Crumbling Walls. Spike and Buffy are kidnapped by a shady organization led by someone intent on revenge. PG13 for now, rating may go up later.
1. Return

**_Disclaimer & Author's Notes:_** Buffy the Vampire Slayer is the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN and anyone else I missed. For fun, not profit. This story is a response to Isabelle's Summer Challenge #2 on Crumbling Walls. Thanks to bloodymiry and Dragolyn for betaing for me, as well as Krissy and Nos for putting up with my occasional fic-related rambling at them. ****

Fall From Grace   
By Saberi 

Things change, even in a single summer. Spike himself was evidence of this. Four months ago he had left Sunnydale, angry and confused. Now he was back and while he may have appeared to be the same vampire, he was actually quite different.

Having a soul tends to change you on a fundamental level.

He'd been back for a week, but had yet to summon the courage to face Buffy, because of what he had almost done to her before he left. In the back of his mind he realised that by the Slayer's own logic he should be forgiven. After all, _Angel_ (he sneered the name of his Grandsire in his mind) had never been held accountable for his actions as Angelus. But in his heart, and, well, soul, he felt that he did not deserve her forgiveness.

Yet here he was, once again lurking outside her bedroom window, chain-smoking and attempting to work up the courage to talk to her.

"Spike?"

"Yaagh!" he jumped, and whirled around, only to see...

"Dawn? What are you doing out? It's late. Does big sis know you're out here? It's not safe. Vampires lurking about and all that."

The teenager just raised an eyebrow at him.

"Buffy knows I'm out here. I'm patrolling for her. But that's not the issue, Spike. The issue is: Why. Are. You. Here?" With each word she stepped closer to the vampire until they were nose-to-nose and he could see the angry glint in her eyes all too well.

__

My, how she's grown... The thought flitted through his mind out of nowhere, and he almost giggled at the absurdity of it. Here she was, from the look and sound of it not too hesitant to do him in, and all he could think about was how much taller she was than when he'd last seen her.

"I'm here to see Buffy," he replied honestly.

"What?" She didn't move, her eyes still an inch from his, "Why? So you can try and _rape_ her again?"

"No!" he protested. The shock and horror he felt just remembering it must have shown in his voice, making her step back, startled. "I- I just wanted to …apologize."

Dawn cocked her head as she considered his words. He _seemed_ sincere and genuinely sorry. But one thing bothered her...

"You say you're sorry. But if you really are, how come you waited four months to come tell her that?" 

"It's a long story, 'bit. Your sister expecting you in any time soon?" 

Dawn shook her head. "No. I was supposed to patrol Shadyside Cemetery and be back by 12:30. I finished early, though."

"Come on then," he sighed, and began heading back to his crypt, with Dawn close behind.

Once they arrived, Dawn plunked down in the armchair and Spike nervously asked her if she wanted anything- a pop, snacks...

"You sound like Clem!" she laughed.

"Hey!" Spike's tone was mock-offended, but inwardly he was glad that Dawn had let go of her earlier hostility. "So, you sure you want to hear this?" he asked one last time.

"Yes, already. Get on with it!" Dawn rolled her eyes in true exasperated-teenager style, and Spike began his tale.

Dawn listened with rapt attention as he detailed the trials, the reward, and how he'd spent the past four months travelling the world, helping where he was needed, before he'd felt ready to return and face the woman he loved.

"Wow," she said when he finally finished. "You went through all that just for Buffy?" The vampire nodded. An idea began to form in Dawn's crafty little teenage mind. "Spike? Could we um, go patrolling together tomorrow night? You know, just you and me?"

"Sure, 'bit. But why me and not big 'sis?"

"Oh, I figured you could give me some extra pointers- like on how to surprise attack vamps and stuff..." she trailed off, then grinned. "Meet me at the end of my street at 11-tomorrow night. See ya!" and she scampered off, leaving a somewhat bemused Spike in her wake.

* * *

"Dawn, why do you want to patrol with me, anyway?" Buffy asked as her little sister practically dragged her out of the house.

"Um, sisterly bonding ritual!" Dawn supplied.

"Over slaying?" Buffy questioned with a raised eyebrow. "That's funny, considering you're normally all 'I can _handle_ a routine patrol on my own!'" she imitated her sister, exaggerating the whiny tone. Dawn rolled her eyes.

"I am _so_ not that bad," she insisted. "I just wanna improve my slaying technique. Besides," she elbowed her sister playfully; "you know you enjoy playing Jedi Master to my Padawan..." 

Buffy groaned. "That's the last time I let you stay over at Xander's for an all-night Star Wars marathon..." she trailed off as she saw just where Dawn had been taking her; or rather, to whom.

"Buffy," he said, sounding as shocked and confused as she felt.

"Spike,"

"Dawn!" they both chorused. The culprit flashed the two of them a smile before turning tail and running.

"Later, guys!" she called out, before ducking behind a tree so that she could witness the fireworks and (hopefully) reconciliation between two of her favourite people.

"Why are you back, Spike?" Buffy tried to sound angry when she asked him, but it came off sounding more sad than anything else.

"Buffy- there's something I need to tell you..." she waited expectantly for him to explain himself, but whatever he was going to say was cut off as they found themselves surrounded by a dozen men clad in combat gear.

"Take the vampire!" One, obviously in charge, ordered the others. Immediately, Spike found himself held captive by four of the men. And indeed they were human, as the chip fired in reaction to his initial struggles. He stilled, defeated.

"What about the girl?" a subordinate with a nasally voice asked.

"We'll have to take her too. We can't have any witnesses." In-charge replied.

"This wasn't in the mission parameters!" Nasally voice protested.

"Are you questioning my orders?" In-charge hissed menacingly.

"N-no, sir!" Nasally voice insisted, and moved to help his comrades who were having a much more difficult time capturing Buffy than they had Spike.

The vampire's unbeating heart surged as Buffy broke free from her captors' hold, but his hope was crushed as one of them produced a tazer gun and shot her with it. The last sight he saw before being knocked unconscious himself was of the Slayer's form crumpling to the ground.

From her vantage point behind the tree, Dawn watched in shock and horror as the mysterious men dragged Spike and Buffy into a black van and sped away into the night. 


	2. Captivity

****

Fall From Grace

Chapter 2

The first thing Buffy noticed when she came to was that she was in a sterile white room, much like the ones from the now-destroyed Initiative headquarters. The only difference was that in the upper right hand corner of this cell, a television was bolted to the wall. A small cot was tucked into the other corner. There was no toilet or sink. Obviously, this room had never been designed for a human.

Spike was nowhere to be seen, which strangely enough, worried her. For all his manly bravado at the time, Buffy could tell that the vampire hadn't been eager to return to the Initiative's compound when they'd gone to rescue Oz, even though Spike had secretly been working for Adam at the time. 

She wondered just what it was that they wanted with Spike, anyway. If they were somewhere like the Initiative, or something even more sinister.

A man in a white lab coat approached her cell, clipboard in hand.

"Name?" he inquired, his tone bored. Buffy recognized the man as the same nasal-voiced one that had objected to taking her. She said nothing. "Name?" he repeated again, this time annoyed. The Slayer kept silent. "I won't ask again. We have much more painful ways of finding out this information. Name?"

"Buffy Summers," she relented. She wasn't stupid- during her brief alliance with the Initiative she'd seen the kind of resources they had at their disposal. Things that made demons who hadn't uttered a sound of pain as she'd slain them scream in agony. If these people were anything like the Initiative she figured it was safer to co-operate until there was a chance for escape.

"What am I doing here?" she demanded. The man raised an eyebrow at her.

"It's not you we were after, Miss Summers, but the vampire." He watched her reaction carefully. "You don't seem too surprised to learn that your friend is a vampire,"

"He's not my friend!" Buffy protested. _He's more than that_, the little voice in the back of her mind whispered, but she promptly ignored it.

The man stood there for a few minutes, observing and occasionally writing something down on the clipboard. Then, just as suddenly as he'd arrived, he turned and left. Perhaps an hour or so later (it was hard to tell, as she had no watch) another man arrived, carrying a tray of food. As he deactivated the electronic fence that separated the cell from the hallway, Buffy thought she saw her chance and leapt up, intent on escaping.

Only to collide with the electronic wall and fall to the ground, mildly shocked. Frowning in dismay, she looked up into the face of the man who'd delivered her dinner, who was smirking at her in a superior manner.

"Double shielding," he explained as he reactivated the outer wall, and then deactivated the inner one, giving Buffy access to the food they'd oh-so-generously provided her. "If I were you, I'd behave. The intent never was to capture you, only the vampire, but we couldn't let you tell others about our existence either. Co-operate, and you will be treated well. Don't co-operate, and we can make your time here a living hell. Good day, Miss Summers." 

Buffy stared glumly at the meal in front of her. Some non-descript meat, limp vegetables, and one of those plastic cups of juice. Stabbing a string bean on her fork she eyed it warily before taking a hesitant bite. It tasted normal, so she assumed it wasn't drugged. Even if it was, it wasn't like she had much of a choice anyway. The way things looked, she could eat what was given or she could starve, that much was clear. So she ate the rest of the meal, the tastelessness reminding her of hospital food.

There was a routine, she would quickly learn. Every morning (at least, she assumed it was morning- there was no accurate way to tell the passage of time) she was awakened as someone delivered her breakfast. After breakfast, she was taken by two armed guards, both female, to a washroom, where she was permitted to use the toilet and take a quick shower. A few hours would pass, during which someone would come in and ask her questions about her history with Spike. She tried to be as vague and misleading as she could without coming off as being dishonest with her captors. They didn't seem to be aware that she was the Slayer, and frankly Buffy wished to keep it that way. Also, for some reason she felt the urge to do all she could to protect Spike from these people. After the interrogation- "information gathering" as they called it- session was over, lunch was delivered. Then she was left alone for a few hours, then finally dinner was delivered, after which she was expected to go to sleep.

After three days of this she got up the courage to ask for something to occupy the long boring hours she spent alone. Her request was met with only silence on the part of her captors.

* * *

Spike's fate, meanwhile, was somewhat worse than the Slayer's. Immediately upon his arrival, Spike was placed in a sterile, harshly lit room that was empty save for a steel operating table in the centre. The men who'd captured him strapped him down on the table and then left the room.

Spike's initial struggles proved fruitless- the straps held firm. Obviously, whoever had kidnapped him had done their homework, as had the straps been designed with a normal human in mind, a vampire could easily have broken free.

The vampire took a calming breath in an effort not to panic. This whole place was eerily reminiscent of the Initiative, and his memories of that place were mostly of poking, and prodding, and a certain operation that had rather forcefully catapulted him out of the unlife he had been enjoying for the past century.

At some point, a human in a white lab coat came into the room and injected a needle filled with a sedative into the vampire's arm. Watching in satisfaction as the vampire drifted into unconsciousness, the man nodded to someone on the other side of the observation window.

When he eventually came to, Spike felt groggy and weak. During the time he'd been unconscious, someone had removed the black t-shirt and jeans he'd been wearing and dressed him in hospital scrubs. Turning his head as much as the restraints would allow, he saw a needle with a long plastic tube attached to it was stuck in his arm. At first, he wondered why whoever had captured him was giving him blood this way, but then he realised that the IV wasn't putting blood _in_ to his body, but rather taking it _out_. He watched with a kind of morbid fascination as the red liquid flowed slowly into the plastic bag that hung by his head.

He remembered the first time he'd come to the Watcher's for help, and how he'd told him about what happens to vampires that have no blood left. He'd seen an emaciated vampire once, all skin and bones. Dru had found him in a cave, nearly comatose. She'd wanted to take him home and nurse him back to health, but Spike had broken off a branch from a nearby tree and simply staked him. His Princess had pouted at him for days for that.

Spike's mind snapped back to the present as the man who'd been there when Spike was first brought in to the room returned. He disconnected the IV after it finished draining the blood and nodded in satisfaction. 

"Doctor Walsh," the man said, pressing the intercom button on the wall, "the patient is ready for you."


	3. Progress

**Fall From Grace  
Chapter Three**

"Xander," Dawn said slowly and carefully. "Spike did not kidnap Buffy. Some people in black came and took _both_ of them."

"Are you sure?" Xander pressed, again. In the three days since Buffy and Spike had been kidnapped, Xander had repeatedly questioned the teenager's account of what had happened. Dawn had finally had it with him, and snapped angrily;

"Are you calling me a _liar_? Huh?" Her eyes flashed absolute murder, and Xander took a step back, his hands up in the universal 'surrender' gesture.

"No, no, Dawnie. I just wanted to be sure. I mean, after all, the last time they saw each other he tried to ra-"

"Don't you even finish that sentence," the angry teenager hissed. "First of all, it was not your place to tell me about what you think happened. And second, Spike was going to apologise."

"Apologies don't make everything all better, Dawn," Xander said, a little unnerved at her anger. She merely raised an eyebrow at him.

"It's about _time_ you realised that." Dawn turned to go into the kitchen, but not before calling back towards him, "Jeez, close your mouth. You look like a fish. And do something useful, would you? I'm gonna help Willow look online for information," and with that, she flounced out. 

* * *

Spike suppressed an involuntary shudder at the name 'Walsh'. Craning his neck so he could see the doorway, he waited to see who the man was referring to.

To his surprise, the person who walked through that door was not the woman that he remembered as being in charge of the Initiative, but a man. The same short-cropped strawberry blond hair and similar facial features, but with a taller build.

"Hello... Spike," Doctor Walsh said.

"Who," Spike's voice was dry and whispery, "who are you?" 

"My name is Doctor James Walsh. And I'm here to make your life the living hell that you deserve."

"I never did anything to you," Spike rasped. "I don't even know you!"

"You remember Professor Margaret Walsh, don't you?" Walsh queried, picking up a bag filled with a white powder. Spike nodded. "Mags was my sister. Do you know how she died?" Spike was about to answer, "Adam", when the doctor continued, "she died because of demons like you. She was brilliant, my little sister. Had a vision. And it was all ruined because disgusting, unnatural things like yourself got out of control. After her death, I started up this little project in memory of her." 

He unscrewed the lid of a vial that was filled with blood and poured some of the powder into it. Replacing the lid, he shook the vial, dissolving the powder into the blood. "Open your mouth." He ordered the vampire.****

Spike refused, clenching his jaw shut tightly and using what little strength he had to prevent going into demon face. The scent of blood- even just a small amount, and mixed with what was most likely some sort of drug- was overwhelming his senses in his starved state, but he held fast. Walsh moved closer, and Spike could no longer resist. He felt his human mask slip away as the demon came forth, and he opened his mouth. He could taste the drug in the blood as it was poured down his throat, but he no longer cared.

His muscles relaxed as the drug made its way through his starved system, causing the vampire to lay limply on the table.

"Excellent." Walsh said. He then brought out several items, including crosses, holy water, and a dagger that sent a cold chill of recognition up Spike's spine.

* * *

__

"This won't take long." Spike was confident he could overtake Doc.

"No, I don't imagine it will." The other demon was unconcerned over the possibility that Spike would pose any threat to him. 

Spike lunged forward towards Doc, who neatly sidestepped and shoved the ritual blade into Spike's back. The pain was nearly unbearable, but the vampire didn't give in. 

"You don't come near the girl, Doc," he said fiercely. 

"I don't smell a soul anywhere on you. Why do you even care?"

  
"I made a promise to a lady."

  
"Oh? Then I'll send the lady your regrets." They grappled, and suddenly the demon whose outer appearance was that of a feeble old man had the best of the vampire.

"No," he whispered as he realised what Doc planned to do. Dawn's terrified, tear-streaked face was the last thing he saw before he began the long plummet towards the ground.

* * *

"I can see you recognise this," Walsh said, taking in the vampire's faraway expression. "It came to us rather by chance, actually. One of my Sunnydale contacts was approached by someone who claimed he had no use for it anymore. He told us it was a holy weapon, blessed by a god herself. I'd like to test that theory." 

The fact that Spike was tied down, coupled with being heavily drugged, meant that he had no way of resisting as the doctor lifted the shirt of his hospital scrubs and stabbed him in the side. Spike refused to give the doctor the satisfaction of hearing him cry out with pain, but that didn't seem to deter him at all.

* * *

In the small meeting room sat Doctor Walsh, with the nasal-voiced man to his left, and another to his right. There were several others at the table, including a young woman whose expression was sullen and unenthusiastic. Walsh spoke first.

"My experiments with the vampire are proceeding nicely. He's shown a stronger resolve than the other filth we have here, but I do believe I'm getting somewhere. Isn't that right, Mr. Connolly?" He turned to the man on his right.

"The sedative we're administering with the limited amount of blood he receives each day is weakening him as you expected. He should be... responding... any day now. And then we can begin phase two."

"Excellent. Doctor Grayson, have you finished the blood work****on young Ms. Summers yet?"

"Yes, sir. She is human, as far as we can tell, although she does seem to possess an unusually high white blood cell count. Which may or may not account for the fact that the injuries she sustained during her capture have literally disappeared without a trace. The human body is a remarkable thing, but even the healthiest person would still have bruises remaining." 

Doctor Walsh frowned, and the meeting room went silent for a few moments as he pondered the implications of his subordinate's report. He'd heard the phrase 'accelerated healing powers' before, but he couldn't quite recall where, and it bothered him. "And how _is_ our unexpected guest, Mr. Thomas?"

"Growing increasingly restless. She's complaining of having nothing to do, sir," nasally-voice, whose name was Kevin Thomas, told Doctor Walsh.

"Oh she is, is she?" The doctor smiled cruelly. "Well, then perhaps we should provide her with some entertainment."  
  
"Sir?" Thomas raised an eyebrow in question.

"The tapes we have been making of the sessions. Show them to her. I'm sure she's been anxious to know what's been happening to her vampire friend. Now, she will." 

Walsh smiled, and the others all followed suit, save for the young woman whose expression had not changed at all throughout the short meeting.

* * *

On the fourth day, Thomas arrived as usual for Buffy's interrogation session. Only this time, there were no questions.

"You wanted something to do." He smiled cruelly. "Well, here's a little entertainment." He pressed a button, and the TV screen in Buffy's cell flickered to life. On it, she could make out a man dressed in blue scrubs, strapped to a table. A man, or rather vampire, with familiar peroxide blond hair and pale skin. Two men in white lab coats stood on either side of him.

"Spike?" she gasped, her earlier worries about him once again coming to the forefront. These people had some connection to the Initiative, she was sure of it now. Her suspicions were confirmed even further when she heard one of the men address the other as "Walsh".

"Doctor Walsh?" she whispered. She couldn't have heard right. She tore her eyes away from the television screen to ask Nasally-voice if what she'd heard was true, but he was already gone.

A shout of pain emanated from the speakers on the TV set. Buffy's attention was once more riveted to the screen. She watched in horror as Walsh and his colleague performed several "tests" on the vampire. Several times she was tempted to turn away, but she couldn't bear not knowing what was happening to Spike.

The screams continued into the night, long after Buffy fell into a restless sleep.


End file.
